


We are but weaklings pretending to be tough.

by Kaesteranya



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-03
Updated: 2011-05-03
Packaged: 2017-10-18 22:42:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaesteranya/pseuds/Kaesteranya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coping mechanisms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We are but weaklings pretending to be tough.

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is so totally PWP, it’s bound to hurt.
> 
> The title is taken from the 31 Days theme for November 3, 2009.

For six days of the week on most weeks, Gamma is the atypical, red-blooded straight male who likes his women the way he likes his booze: clean, cheap, simple and refreshing, with just the sort of kick that his brain needed after a long day pushing pens and blowing shit up. Most mafioso were the same way, partially because they were expected to be and mostly because it came naturally for men from their side of the fence.

 

On the seventh day, though, on that rare seventh day that happens at least once a month and always in some seedy joint with pool tables, rough-looking goons and female drifters young enough to be his daughters, the Giglionero Family’s most loyal dog meets with the Vongola Family’s most loyal dog, and the two of them drop all that crap about honor and duty and Good Behavior in order to get completely sloshed, rile each other up into a drunken rage, and take all that pent up shit out on each other.

 

“Jesus, you’re tight. How long has it been since your boyfriend fucked you anyway?”

 

 _“Shut the fuck up.”_

 

Gamma has come to realize that with his lips and his hips and his hair and his eyes, Gokudera Hayato is pretty much as good as any other woman he could have snagged in a place like this one – maybe a little better, in fact, because the younger man’s aggressive on the get go, sensitive while they’re doing it, and never, ever needy during the afterglow. He’s got the Storm Guardian between his two hands at the moment, pressing him between his crotch and the edge of a pool table, stretching him out over the green and among the stripes and solids, holding his hips down with one hand and taking his cock by the hilt, straight up, with the other. They’re not alone in the bar, but neither of them care, and the regulars know better than to do anything but watch them, or maybe keep their gaze on their drinks and pretend that there _aren’t_ two men fucking in the general vicinity. The owner probably remembers the LAST time some homophobes tried to get in the way of their fun. It hadn’t been pretty.

 

With that thought, Gamma fits another finger in between Gokudera’s butt cheeks. His smirk widens when he feels the younger man shudder, when he sees him try to stifle his moan by biting down on his own arm.

 

“Answer the question, kid.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

He’s sure the words were meant to come out straight, but it sounds more like a whine instead, and really: a guy shouldn’t bother with threats and cussing when he’s bucking into his partner’s hand.

 

He considers telling Gokudera as much, but settles for teasing the tip of his dick with one thumb instead. Ten seconds flat, and the Storm Guardian can’t even breathe right.

 

“God – _god damn it_ – hurry _up_...!”

 

“I don’t take orders from you,” Gamma lightly returns, right before he thrusts another finger in deep and scratches against the inside of Gokudera’s warm, taut ass. It’s like toying with a virgin, every single time.

 

Later, as Gamma finally replaces his fingers with the full length of his cock, after the two Guardians of once rival families tangle together and fuck, the blond man wonders, and not for the first time, exactly what it is that brings the two of them together like this. It’s not as if they actually like each other very much. It’s not like they don’t have other people they could be sleeping with.

 

A heartbeat or so after that, though, at the moment when he’s as buried as deep into Gokudera as he could possibly go, he thinks of his boss and his boss’ sweet and very dead mother. He thinks of that Vongola kid and the easygoing, smiley and only-too-popular swordsman under his command.

 

He thinks that maybe he and Gokudera have a lot more in common than they’ll ever care to admit, with this whole business of Family loyalty and never quite getting what one really wants. Maybe that’s why it makes a lot of sense, easing things up by ruining each other.

 

Gamma pulls back just so that that he can thrust himself into Gokudera again, and as he nibbles on that ear and listens to the younger man cry out, he decides that it’s high time that he stop thinking.


End file.
